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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26859091">Beginnings of the Nightmares</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_nb/pseuds/h_nb'>h_nb</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Keaton [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Beating, Blood, Nightmares, Struggling, Whump, Whumptober 2020, injuries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:42:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26859091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_nb/pseuds/h_nb</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whumptober Day Six: "Stop, please..."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Keaton [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Beginnings of the Nightmares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this one is short as hell and i am sorry</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Keaton yelped as he was dragged across the floor, scrambling to keep moving as to lessen the yank of the hand in his hair. Blood streamed down his face from a wound he had taken to his head. It kept pulsing, in time with his frantic heartbeat. It thumped in his head, his chest, his fingertips, all throughout him.</p><p>The hand in his hair released, and the back of Keaton's head hit the ground with a sharp thunk that sent a sharp pain down his spine. He groaned, twisting away from the woman above him who glared down with a leering eye and a sick grin. "You're not leaving without facin' consequences."</p><p>"Wait, hey--" Keaton frantically flinched out of the way, pushing himself up on unsteady hands moments before the woman's fist slammed into the space where his head had been. Blood covered one eye entirely, washing half his vision in a sea of red as he stood on shaking legs. His hands rose in front of him in an attempt to block any oncoming attacks, but those hands were wrenched aside, arm twisted so harsh and quick for a moment Keaton thought they had broke something. A rough scream was ripped from him, staring wide eyed at the woman who held his arm in this way. "Stop, please," he croaked, face tensing in pain as she squeezed his twisted arm even further.</p><p>With a mighty shove, Keaton’s back hit the floor again, and he lay stunned, trying to catch his breath. His body felt frozen in shock or pain or both as the woman advanced on him, fist flying toward him in a fury. Keaton tried to flinch away again, but the hands over his body help him still as the knife drove towards his face, the impact sending him falling through the floor, into a rusty darkness that tasted like copper. Keaton didn't breathe in that darkness as the blood filled his lungs and overtook him.</p><p>When he opened his eyes, it was darkness again. Keaton coughed, still tasting blood on his tongue as his hands found the mattress underneath him and pushed him into a seated position. He fumbled for his lamp, the bright light causing him to flinch once more like he was expecting a fist to be swinging toward him. He blinked a few times, registering the blood dripping down his face and splattering in dots all over his sheets. Keaton sighed, nearly choking on the blood in his throat again. He pulled himself out of bed, flicking the fluorescent lights in the bathroom on. Tissues and toilet paper created a barrier, soaking dark red with blood as Keaton stood in front of the mirror, waiting the bloody nose out.</p><p>Looking at his face in the mirror, there was no hiding the massive yellowing bruise on his forehead, nor the black eye that kept his left eye partially swelled shut. Keaton rolled back his stiff shoulders, wincing as the slashes down his back stung.</p><p>After a few more depressing minutes staring in front of the mirror, Keaton grabbed a few more tissues and left for his kitchen, flicking on his electric kettle to boil some water. Minutes later, his bloody nose was drying and Keaton had a cup of instant noodles in his hand, leaning against his kitchen counter as he ate them.</p><p>He looked at the oven clock. Five in the morning. Too late to go back to sleep, too early to do much of anything.</p><p>But, as much as his aching limbs protested, Keaton finished the noodles and grabbed a camera bag.</p><p>At the very least, he would get some beautiful sunrise pictures out of it, and it wouldn't be enough to erase the nightmare from his mind, but for this moment it would be enough.</p>
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